


Rape = Sex + Trainer

by theway



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Bestiality, Crack, Dubious Consent, Erotica, Extremely Underage, F/M, Face-Sitting, Feminist Themes, Firsts, Loss of Virginity, Parody, Pedophilia, Pokephilia, Psychic Abilities, Rimming, Shota, Small Penis, Social Justice, Tail Sex, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 10:19:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4742660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theway/pseuds/theway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in an abandoned building, there's a crazy Ninetales feasting on the flesh of innocents. An unknowing youngster invades her territory, and Ninetales doesn't have the heart to eat the poor child. Instead, she molests him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rape = Sex + Trainer

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Dream Eater Opens a Junk Food Chain](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1991922) by [theway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theway/pseuds/theway). 



> About a year ago, I started posting crap on AO3. This fic marks the one year anniversary, and pays homage to the first fic I published. I didn't know what to expect when I started, but after ~300 kudos and ~30000 hits, I think some people actually enjoy it lol. I love y'all.
> 
> This work is an oneshot, so it won't receive updates. To receive notifications about new works and chapters, you can subscribe to [this RSS feed](https://vas.neocities.org/etc/ao3_works_feed.xml) or [my profile](/users/theway).

She could feel her prey arriving like a cowboy film damsel in distress could feel the train vibrations through the rails she was tied onto. She could almost taste its fresh blood lubricating her teeth. Her stomach growled in anticipation of digesting its flesh; the pleasure sent shivers down her spine. It was here! It was coming! Like an endless stream of offended teenagers who kept biting on the blatant trolls' bait, they just kept on coming. One of these days, she'd have to go on a diet, lest she need a fat acceptance movement to fight for her scooter rights.

Filthy trainers dared to litter her home with their presence, looking for innocent creatures to capture, enslave, and oppress in their spherical prisons. She would have none of it. She set up camp in the abandoned, burnt building, and scared the living shit out of every oppressor who dared enter. They called it _haunted_ , yet still the oppressors marched on, undeterred.

She had to take it a step forward, to _a whole 'notha levah_. She would feast on the oppressors' souls, and show them what's what. However, that proved difficult to pull off, as she was no psychic mastermind. Withdrawing from the ethereal, she tried her paws—or rather, fangs—on the corporeal; she'd feast on their _brains_! After all, where else would a soul lie but their brains? Ah, to be young and naïve again…

As she soon found out, even brains were beyond her. It looked like the oppressors' spherical shackles were modelled after their skulls, and so they were incredibly difficult to crack. She had to weigh her options, and she promptly decided to feast on more regular parts of their bodies instead. After all, if brains are starved of oxygen, they'd shut down, and so would their souls. Yes! It made perfect sense! The clarity that had befallen her on that fabled day would know no equal.

The wooden floor creaked from the weight of enslavement. Yes, she could smell the anxiety… and it definitely reeked of manhood. Of all her victims, she took special pleasure in the male ones, because their slaves had to endure the usual misdeeds, plus the power of their male gaze. For men, she had discovered, it mattered not what kind of hole they were penetrating, so long as it caressed their rape sticks well. Male holes, female holes, toddler holes, elderly holes, Metapod holes, Sharpedo holes, vaginal holes, poop holes, even nasal holes if they could get away with it. It was all part of their plan to rape the universe. The ambition of the oppressors could rival Arceus.

As for this particular oppressor, he was a youngster named Mike. Due to his age, Mike was still very unsure of himself, and during a game of truth or dare, he had been told to enter the haunted house in the outskirts of town. He had taken his trusty Rattata with him, though he wasn't sure how safe that ought to make him feel. The house smelled of unuse and the floor made all kinds of noises. He could see innumerable specks of dust floating in the air, rendered visible by the light passing through windows and gaps between the walls.

He didn't really know what to expect, or what he was supposed to be doing. His ignorance made it all the more difficult to concentrate on happy thoughts. He was more anxious than a Skitty looking at the giant truck tire approaching her at 200km/h, and which would inexorably turn her into tomato spatter lest she stop staring at it and move out of the god damn way. His heart was beating frantically enough to pump blood through half a dozen heart surgery patients. He was so twitchy he could drop a smartphone to the floor even if it was fused with his palm on the molecular level; so basically if he was a lass.

He was so busy thinking of similes, he hadn't noticed the smoke that was now surrounding him. Panic and confusion mixed like yogurt and garlic. He could make a faint light in front of him. He tried to make out what it was, as it gradually grew in intensity, until a voice shouted loud enough to shatter Primeape Glass 4.

“ _I AM BECOME DEATH, DESTROYER OF WORLDS. LOOK UPON ME, YE MIGHTY, AND DESPAIR. I'M NOT LOCKED IN HERE WITH YOU; YOU'RE LOCKED IN HERE WITH ME. WITNESS ME. I AM THE ONE WHO CAUGHT THE SUN ON THE ROAD—_ ”

“Ahhh!” interjected Mike, screaming in comparable volume. He fell on the floor, almost shit his pants, and started crawling backwards. Then he stopped, and started fumbling about for his Pokéball. It took him way too long to find it, but finally he took hold of it, and tossed it awkwardly in front of him. “Go, Rattata!”

There was a flash of light, and out of the Pokéball came the purple rat. “Kill it, Rattata!” commanded Mike. “Bite it! Bite it to death!” The Rattata was confused, but it tried to comply. It looked for the source of the light, and started running towards it. It had barely taken two steps, when, in a flurry of furry white, it was hit with enough force to crash it onto the wall. It instantly fainted, its small act of courage having accomplished nothing.

And out of the smokescreen of her own making came his enemy, her form clear as day now that it wasn't obscured. It was a wild Ninetales! And a horribly overlevelled one to boot. This wasn't fair, he thought. He had come here expecting some Ghastlys, maybe some Haunters, but this opponent could set his world on fire!

“ _SAY YOUR PRAYERS_ ,” the voice in his head bellowed, which he now identified as coming from Ninetales. It slowly approached him, and it didn't look like it was very friendly. This was impossible! Wild Pokémon weren't supposed to be this aggressive. How was he supposed to explain this to his parents? Heck, how was he supposed to be able to explain anything if he was going to die?!

“Please don't eat me!” he pleaded. “I-I'll go away! I promise! I won't step foot in here again! I'll…” Mike had to stop talking for a second, as the pent up emotions made him cry. “I'll do anything! Please don't eat me please please please…”

But Ninetales wasn't swayed by the young boy's pleas, and instead kept her slow approach. He had pretty much given up on escaping, and was just sitting there begging for mercy, frozen in fear. Ninetales got up real close to him, pressed her mug against his, and licked his left cheek and ear. “You taste so sweat…,” she told him telepathically. “It's a real wonder how no one's eaten you yet.”

“Nooo…! I don't want to die…!” Mike cried out, and went on to wail. His cries were so muffled by his tears, it was hard to make anything out. He was probably calling for his mommy or his Rattata, but none of that was gonna happen. The only thing he was gonna see from now on would be the light of the afterlife, pulling him out of this flawed material world and onto the next. One less oppressor to go around.

But when the youngster tried pushing her back, barely putting any real effort into it, while crying so hard he couldn't even see what was going on, Ninetales started having ideas. She thought on it, and she wasn't really _that_ hungry. Not even a week had gone by since the last time she had feasted on an oppressor, and there were so many things left to do in life, besides eating. It would be a waste to focus on only one aspect of a pleasurable existence, and ignore the rest.

“I've decided not to eat you,” she said. However, Mike continued his pitiful struggles, probably because he was wailing so hard he couldn't even hear his own thoughts. “I said I'm not going to eat you!” she repeated, to no avail again. This was really wearing down on her patience. “ _SHUT YOUR FEDORABLE MOUTH, YOU LITTLE CUNT! SHUT THE HELL UP OR I'LL THROW YOU IN A SCHOOL OF HUNGRY TENTACRUEL! SHUT IT OR I'M GOING TO SEW IT SHUT SO TIGHT YOU'RE GOING TO BE EATING THROUGH AN IV BAG UNTIL YOU DIE OF COLON CANCER, AND THE ONLY THING YOU'LL HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT WILL BE YOUR SHITTY PROSTITUTE-SLAUGHTERING GAME REVIEWS!_ ” she yelled, and this time Mike stopped being annoying.

Mike had finally got the message. “You're… not gonna eat me?” he said between sniffs and wiping his eyes.

“I was planning to eat you, but now I've reconsidered,” she admitted. “You're so cute and inexperienced, it would be a shame for you to be decomposing in my stomach, when there's so many exciting ways for you to be inside me…”

“I… I don't understand…”

“Oh, trust me, you'll understand soon enough, teehee.” Ninetales gave his left cheek another lick, which was distinctly more sensual compared to before. Now that she thought about it, she always preferred eating her fruit unripe. But in this case, digesting something this unripe would mess up her stomach, wouldn't it? It would be excessively sour and hard as a rock. So then, if she couldn't ruin his soul forever by eating him, she had to be creative in her endeavours.

She reached between his legs and tried to grab hold of his zippers with her fangs. “W-what are you doing?!” exclaimed Mike, feeling awkward about her muzzle pressing against his junk. He instinctively tried closing his legs and pushing her away, but Ninetales stopped his movements in their tracks with her paws and tails.

“Stop fidgeting, or I might change my mind about hosting a barbecue party this weekend. I heard furniture buyers couldn't tell equine burgers from bovine. I wonder if they'll be able to figure out they're cannibalising…,” Ninetales threatened. That didn't do much to quell his anxiety, however, he did stop protesting as much, so that was a win for her.

Ninetales had some issues figuring out exactly how to unzip his pants. Those self-interested humans had the nerve to create clothes that were completely unmanageable by anyone without opposable thumbs! How dare they not think of alternative situations, like, for example, getting assaulted by a wild Ninetales in some abandoned building. Was it really that out of the world? She found their lack of imagination disheartening.

At any rate, she figured it out eventually, and thus the youngster's trademark shorts were set loose. Of course, since this was a human that she was dealing with, he had multiple layers of clothing, like an onion, presumably to prevent his oppressive aura from becoming too intimidating or something. Whatever its purpose was, it was presently a source of great annoyance, in that there was no easy way to remove it.

She considered commanding him to undress himself, knowing she'd probably enjoy the striptease, but the youngster was dumb as a brick, and it would take, like, an hour to get the concept across. To hell with elegance, then; she'd rip the damned shorts off, and his underwear, too. She'd shed this onion down to the core. His armour didn't look very tough to bite through.

“Ah! No, wait! Ahhh!” shrieked Mike in a comically effeminate voice, and he wasn't any bastion of masculinity to begin with. Honestly, it would be a surprise if his testicles had dropped at all, or if he wasn't a microblogging website user with an identity crisis. Well, to be fair, if he hadn't drowned in angst before, he definitely would after she was done with him.

“I'm just… getting… these pieces of shit… off…!” Ninetales said in between bites, shredding Mike's clothes to pieces and exposing his naked skin. The place was littered with bits of fabric now, but one couldn't argue against its effectiveness. She'd managed to pull it off without amputating him, too. Like, not a single drop of blood was shed that day. Except maybe Rattata. But who gave a fuck about the Rattata, really?

Now that the oppressor was visible in all his glory, Ninetales allowed herself to be underwhelmed. He has flaccid! How could he? That made no sense. Aren't men erect literally 24 hours a day? How else would they have the time to be constantly raping innocent Pokémon? Males need to be erect to inseminate orifices, no? Technically, she supposed they could use dildos to do the hard work for them, but then they wouldn't be as villainous. No, they _had_ to be doing the raping themselves! No offshoring!

It hadn't occurred to Ninetales that perhaps threats of eating him alive weren't exactly a turn-on for Mike, but, then again, the specifics of male sexuality thoroughly eluded her. She didn't have many choices; she'd have to put in some work and get him erect forcefully.

The protracted staring at his genitals made Mike redder than the bedsheets of an innocent girl-turned-trophy wife for the political benefit of paedophile royalty. He tried covering up, but Ninetales snapped his hands away with her tails. “There's no point in hiding your junk. It's barely visible to begin with,” she said.

“I'm only ten years old…,” Mike mumbled, turning away from Ninetales, trying to escape her sight, if not the rest of her.

“Hm? Ten, you say…” Mike wasn't aware that his excuses weren't turning Ninetales off; they were having quite the opposite effect. “This explains a few things,” she thought aloud. Humans usually acquired their Pokémon at 10. That meant it hadn't been very long since he began oppressing his. Which in turn meant that he hadn't grown accustomed to raping it 24/7. The plot thickens! Yes! It all added up now.

“Ugh. I guess I'll have to do something about that, then,” Ninetales decided. She thought about how best to approach that; he wanted the oppressor's rape stick in its maximum power, but she didn't want to get _too_ intimate with it, for that would be colluding with the enemy. “Sheesh, making me do all the work. Typical cismale!” she grumbled. “Even in sitting, you must exert your dominance.”

“I, uh… what?” wondered Mike. He didn't have much time to acquire answers for himself before Ninetales had figured out how best to stimulate him. She'd turned around, presenting her back and tails to him. We wanted to avert his gaze again, but the way they moved and swayed, all nine of them, in their peculiar pattern, was intoxicating. They were so long, and fluffy… they were tickling his genitals, too.

“Ah!” he blurted out.

“This should be enough to get you going,” Ninetales said. She didn't feel very comfortable having a patriarch defile her tails, but it was the best option she had. And so, she started going to work on him with just her spinal appendages. At first, she tried focusing on his penis, but it was so minuscule, it was difficult to get a hold of. As a result, she began caressing the rest of him, using a tail to fondle his testicles, and placing a few on his chest. The youngster was so short, her tails were almost as long as him in that position.

“W-what's going on?” he said. Feigning ignorance was an age-old trick, but she wouldn't fall for it; she _knew_ he was all about that rape. What did he think she was, stupid? She could obviously tell a lie from the tone of his voice; she didn't even need to use her psychic powers! His mouth was saying “IDK” but his brain was saying “FUCK THEM HOES, NIGGA!” as all dudebros' do. It was only a question of opportunity. The second she game him an opening, he'd mount her and oppress her and do vile, terrible things to her orifices. Oh, the horror…

On the other hand, her tails felt so fluffy, and soft, and warm. They were covering Mike so thoroughly, they were practically a blanket over him. It was rather difficult not to burst into laughter initially, though now the stimulation was taking a rather… different turn. Mike was beginning to feel kind of weird.

This was taking longer than Ninetales had hoped. The youngster's inexperience had interested her, but it had also become annoying. Getting him ready for rigid oppression would take forever at this rate; there had to be a better way. There was a patriarch somewhere inside him—not all that deep inside, either—he just needed a little push, and then he'd impose himself on all the things. Perhaps she could help, like, with a mental probe. An ever so subtle and totally not invasive probe.

A probe so subtle, Mike immediately felt the difference. “Ahhh…!” he exclaimed. “I feel—”

“Shush. Men don't feel, only real. Feels are for sensitive creatures, like women, girls, and females. You aren't trans, are you?”

“I-I…” Mike was having trouble putting words together. A rapid surge of new emotions were flooding him. “W-what's t-trans?”

“I'm not here to educate you, cissie! Stop invading my space!”

“I'm sorry,” he said. All of a sudden, he'd started feeling really good between his legs, around his privates. He didn't recall ever feeling that way, and he wasn't sure what had happened to trigger it. Did all Ninetales tails feel that way, or was this a unique circumstance? He didn't have much to weigh what he was feeling against.

His penis fired jolts of excitement as the tails rubbed against it; the tail fondling his testicles wasn't that bad, either. He felt his penis inflating rapidly; what was once a piece of flabby meat was now standing tall and hard. His heart was pumping really fast all of a sudden, and a lot of that blood seemed to be heading south. So much of it, in fact, that it felt like it was about to burst.

The arousal was driving him nuts. He wanted to have more; he _needed_ to have more. It felt like an irrefusable mandate from the universe or the laws of physics or something. He'd never felt anything close to that before. The possibility of being devoured or not, he stopped being so passive and tried adding something to the stimulation with his hands, grabbing Ninetales' tails and guiding their motions.

“What are you doing?!” she blurted out, but didn't try stopping him. It appeared her little push had worked. She hadn't expected it to be that efficient, but then again, one should never underestimate spawns of the patriarchy. She'd given him the slightest ground, and _BAM!_ , he was all over her.

“I'm sorry, it just… It feels too good!” Mike was pretty much jerking off with her tails by now, though he didn't even know how to jerk off normally. This was one of those things that were more of a subconscious process. He just couldn't get enough of those long, fluffy extremities, and how silky smooth they felt against his organ. He added some hip movements, too, in his excitement, though that was kind of difficult, because Ninetales was sitting on his legs. The more excited he got, the more stimulation he wanted, and he slowly felt something building up, like he was about to pee, or something.

“Okay, enough of this!” Ninetales said, pulling her tails away from Mike's grasp and stopping his masturbation session. She wasn't going to let him jizz all over her tails; they would be hell to clean, and they'd be all sticky and smelly and all kinds of ew until she did. They were just the least disgusting way to arouse him, and that was all there was to it. She certainly didn't feel any kind of excitement defiling a ten-year-old boy that way. Nope. Nothing questionable at work here, move along.

She turned around to see the fruit of her labour, and, lo and behold, there it was, the rod of the patriarchy. But it was, erm, so small, and hairless, and inoffensive. Honestly, it looked more cute than scary, being so pale and smooth, twitching occasionally from the heartbeats that drove it. She almost felt the urge to— _no, no, no_! The oppressor was getting to her! She would never sink that low! Except, well, ever so slightly above that low. Like, barely higher. Just a couple of Planck lengths. Surely, no one would question her sanity.

“I-I'm sorry…,” he said again, turning away in shame, though his erection did not subside. Oh, he was so cute! He was harassing her with his cute vibe! Those pick up artist techniques were besting her; what sort of dark arts lay there, she would never know. She could feel the male gaze penetrate her fur and skin and rape her insides with its photon capture. It was so advanced, he didn't even need to look at her for it to work. It had to be some sort of psychic phenomenon, she was sure of it. There was absolutely no way she was making this up in a fit of victimhood-fueled paranoia.

“Uh, okay. Onto the main course, I guess,” Ninetales said, heading towards him. She turned around, lifted all her tails, sat on his chest, and presented her backside against his face.

“Ah!” Mike jumped, though Ninetales didn't budge. “W-what?” He was rather confused by the sudden appearance of her butt in front of him.

“Don't pretend you're confused. Look at what you've done to me! Your MRA shenanigans have reduced me to this lewd state.” As if to emphasise her point, Ninetales moved her backside closer to him. “Just look! This is all because of you! You've coerced me in this position. You're raping me with your eyeballs!”

“But you're the one—”

“Stop mansplaining! Listen up, neckbeard, I don't know what the white cis males over at the dictionary publishing house told you, but rape is sex plus trainer, alright? Obviously, I can't be raping you, cause I'm a Pokémon, and you're the trainer. Oppressors can't be raped. This is simply non-consensual sex—not rape! Rape is a manifestation of the power of the strong over the weak. What I'm doing is just venting; see, I'm frustrated about all the injustices I have to endure on a daily basis, eating trainers and stuff. Get it?”

“I guess?” he said, although he hadn't fully paid attention to her. He had something distracting him, after all, like, say, Ninetales' swollen, puffy anus so close to him it almost touched his nose. He didn't know whether to feel disgust, curiosity, or something else. He wasn't sure what he ought to be doing, really.

He was pretty sure it wasn't very normal, at least. Her arsehole was inflated to twice its radius or so, as a result of being so loose. Her rectum had caved in on itself in an attempt to fill in the gap, giving it its puffy look. The orifice was opening and closing regularly, making it look like a second mouth inhaling and exhaling. Every time it did so, fluids dribbled down on his chest. Her insides looked bright red or pink, while the flabby skin surrounding them had grown dark from exposure to the elements or friction. I smelled mostly of sweat, surprisingly. Maybe Ninetales was a clean freak? He didn't think he was brave enough to find out, though.

“Come on, I don't have all day!” she said, this time forcing her butt directly on his face. Mike tried resisting, but it was no use; she was too heavy and he was just a scrawny ten-year-old. Her tailhole widened as if to eat him, with some help from her pushing down on him. Half his face—chin to nose tip—were inside her now, and he was fighting against her for a breath of fresh air.

“Oh, yeah, that's the stuff…,” Ninetales said. Mike instinctively opened his mouth, as if that would help any, and accidentally licked her rectum. “Yes! Use that tongue more, cissie! Here, I'll motivate you,” she said, as she put her paw on the tip of his erect penis, waving it around a bit. She couldn't get over how tiny it was; barely as large as a finger! So cute, and defenceless, and oppressive!

Mike had no choice but to listen and believe, hoping that if he did so, she'd let him get away with his life and all limbs attached. The stench of her arsehole was immense, so much so that it made him feel dizzy in the head. He did what he could to please her, placing both hands on her hips and licking whichever intestinal wall he could reach. Ninetales cooed to his touch, and wrapped her tails around his head, as if petting him.

“Keep going, hmm…,” she said, pressing harder against him. She was actually rubbing on him, and her back-and-forth movements increased in pace. Mike didn't know how much longer he had to go. Was this how he was going to die? A Ninetales asphyxiating him with her arsehole? What would the newspapers write about his shallow grave? “Youngster meets a rear end”? That's such a shitty way to go…

“Tales!” Ninetales said, this time with her actual mouth. Her colon constricted, and lubrication started gushing out. He could feel his chest getting wet, or wetter than before, at least. Ninetales shivered, and stopped grinding herself on him for a moment. She straightened her back, and wrapped her tails tightly against his head. This kept going for a few seconds, until she finally relaxed, and stopped pressing so much against him.

Mike made one last effort to break free from the shackles of the pooper, pushing Ninetales' butt away for dear life. Ninetales, in her post-orgasmic bliss, took note of that. “Oh, dear, I forgot all about you!” she said, lifting her back off Mike's face. He embraced the fresh air like a desert nomad did an oasis. His diaphragm was doing overtime pumping all that oxygen.

“Oh, well. You know what they say: shit happens,” Ninetales added, shrugging off the attempted murder. That would show the patriarchy how stupid it was to ban facesitting! Yeah! How could they possibly ban something that felt so good? Having a man under your thumb—or butt—fidgeting helplessly, brain split between the objectification of the anal cavity, and the need for oxygen… Nothing could compare to the sensation. Now she just had to convince him to objectify her some more.

Ninetales moved forward a bit, so that she was better positioned for what was coming up next. She looked back to see Mike restored to full self-awareness. And so, she spread her tails again, presenting her now gaping anus. It was convulsing far more than it did before, or maybe it was just more visible, because her sphincter had trouble keeping itself tight, what with having eaten up half his face. Strands of intestinal lubricants were hanging on the walls of her rectum, and they spilled down onto his groin whenever her arsehole winked and bloomed like a flower.

“You know what's gonna happen now, right?” Ninetales asked. The youngster was still erect, even after all these near death experiences, as was expected of a male; always trying to pass on his rape juice, even with his last breath. “You can defile me wherever you want,” she said, while rubbing her slightly prolapsing arsehole on his dick. “Don't feel stressed about whether you're supposed to pick one or the other. It's all in your head. Totally. I'm not steering you in any particular direction. Why would this thought ever cross your mind? I am completely respecting your uncoerced decision to have non-consensual anal sex with me or get eaten alive.”

By this point, Ninetales could think of nothing but having the youngster inside of her. The thought of a little ten-year-old boy losing his virginity with her arsehole aroused her greatly. That tiny kiddy cock, which had barely been touched by anyone, penetrating her shit pipe lustfully. Him rocking his hips, as if in trance. His oppressive aura dominating her intestines, infusing itself with them. Ohhh, the subjugation was so terrible, so horrid; how dare he dominate her thus? She wanted to puke from that thought, if by puking one meant having multiple orgasms.

“Is this… Are we going to have sex? But, that's not… that's where you poop from!” Mike pointed out, confused by what was going on. He hadn't paid that much attention to sex ed class, but even as uninformed and innocent as he was, he was fairly sure penises were supposed to go in vaginas, not buttholes. He had his face more or less buried into one, and that sure as hell didn't feel good. Sticking his wiener into it, too? That was just ew. Ew ew ew.

“Oh, shut up and fuck my arse!” Ninetales said, slamming herself down on his dick. She could distinctly feel something entering. Yup. Something had entered her. “Aha! I did it! I popped your cherry with my arse! I popped a ten-year-old child's cherry with my arse!” she boasted. “Oh, this is so good. It's so perverted! I like playing with my butt, but this is so much better than that!”

Mike cooed. “It's so warm and wet,” he said. He'd never felt anything like that. Ninetales being a fire type probably added to the effect, though it wasn't scalding hot inside of her either. Her intestines were enveloping his dick, vacuuming it with their movements, almost milking it. Ninetales started moving her hips, as he lay on the ground, humping him in reverse cowgirl position. She rested some of her tails on his chest, covering most of him in their softness. Soft as those were, they couldn't match the silky smoothness of her intestinal walls, even more so because of the vast amounts of lubrication they were producing.

“Mhm, that hit the spot,” Ninetales said, and increased the pace. A youngster's cock couldn't provide much in the ways of stretching, but it made up for it by being so many different kinds of wrong it read like the legal appendix for vices. Where else could one claim to have seen a young child losing his innocence to a Ninetales' shitbox? This was some transgressive art going on right here, that's what it was. She'd go down in history as one of the pioneers of the female Pokémon liberation movement. Books would be written in her name, paying homage to her misdeeds, and they'd probably be kinky as fuck.

Mike's waist was absolutely drenched now. He could hear splashing sounds whenever their groins collided, whenever his 3-incher was balls deep inside her large intestine. All the humping and pumping had brought back the maddening lust he'd felt when he was jerking off with her tails, except it felt even better now, with all the heat and the moisture of coitus.

He could have never guessed a Pokémon's arsehole, a Ninetales' arsehole, could feel so good. He knew he was doing something wrong, something incredibly taboo; like, he shouldn't be having anal sex with a Pokémon at ten years of age. But despite that, it felt so good that ignoring the potential repercussions was trivial. It didn't matter what his parents or his teacher would say; heck, he almost wished they were there so they could see him getting laid.

He placed his hands on her butt, added his hip movements to her own. The sensations were dominating his thoughts. His penis felt so good inside of her, as if his entire being had concentrated there and was tripping on acid. He squeezed her furry globes and kept on pumping; Ninetales had stopped her moving, letting him take care of her on his own. He felt like he could lose himself in her anal abyss forever, like he could forgo water, food, and sleep for the rest of his life, just so he could better focus on fucking her arsehole.

“Tales… N-Ninetales!” Ninetales vocalised for the second time since they'd met. She loved how he had taken control, so that she had to put less effort into it. She loved how she had corrupted him so thoroughly, the once innocent boy who could now think of nothing other than pushing her shit in. She should have thought of that earlier, ages ago. She couldn't picture a life when molesting little boys wouldn't be part of her daily routine.

Mike was approaching a climax. He could feel himself getting ready to pee, but that didn't stop him. He felt too good to be distracted by something like urination now. Nevertheless, he thought it good manners to inform Ninetales: “S-something's coming. I think I'm going to pee!”

This drove Ninetales wild. “Oh, yes! Yes, yes, come in my arse! Inseminate my butthole! Empty those prepubescent testicles inside of me!” Mike wasn't too sure what she was on about, but it sounded like affirmation, so he kept going. His motions became as fast as ever, almost hurting his thighs and back with all the effort, and soon enough, he was climaxing, he was going to squirt inside of Ninetales.

He yelped, stopped his motions, and ejaculated what little he could produce inside of her. Ninetales spasmed, her guts coiling around his dick, and squirted on his groin herself. For a handful of seconds, Mike felt like he was in heaven, having achieved release. His mind was blank, he had achieved enlightenment, and nothing could possibly interrupt him.

The two of them stayed connected like that for a while, the youngster's cock buried inside the Ninetales' arsehole. They tried relaxing, as their sweat and fluids mixed in an unmistakable, unique stench.

“That felt _so good_ ,” Ninetales said.

“Y-yeah…”

With him still inside her, Ninetales started wiggling his butt. This jolted Mike into action. “Ready for another round? Patriarchs can't _possibly_ be satisfied with just one rape,” she said.

“I, uh…” He thought about it. He thought about what he had done. He thought about… nah. No excuse he could come up with was good enough to forgo reliving that experience. “Okay.”

He stood up on his knees, his semi-erect penis glistening with Ninetales' anal fluids, and approached her again. He aimed for the disgusting, deformed arsehole, and started the process anew.

They were at it all day. Eventually, Rattata caught wind of it, and ran away in disgust.


End file.
